The Princess and the Private Eye
by The Mocking J
Summary: Marie lives like a princess, Charlie is free to live as a private eye. What happens when the pair trade places for a day?


**[[** _ **Did the RT fandom really need this clichéd 'Princess and the Pauper' oneshot? Why yes, yes it did.**_

 **Spoilers:** _ **For the sole game we have in this series. Paris Caper doesn't count.**_

 **Set:** _ **After the game's storyline.**_ **]]**

* * *

The Princess and the Private Eye

Since moving into Duchess Elizabeth's manse, Marie had been astounded by the number of staff employed there. There were maids, footmen, kitchen workers, cooks, gardeners... and Alfred the butler/bodyguard, of course.

Marie tried her best to remember everyone's names and helped them with the chores whenever she could. However, her offers to pitch in were often politely declined. This came as a shock because she had been used to assisting others around the St. Louré Convent. Now, people were willing to wait on her every hand and foot. They would make her bed, bow to her in the corridor, bake her a cake— all she had to do was ask!

While she did appreciate their efforts, sometimes it could get a little bit... stifling, if she was honest. But she kept these complaints to herself. She had no real reason to be unhappy, did she? She was fortunate to have found her mother, and Raphael still visited her. (At least nothing had changed between the two of them.)

One day, Raphael suggested they take a trip to the Louvre. Marie had a few hours before she was due to give a performance, so she agreed, secretly glad to escape the servants' coddling grasp.

Raphael needed to return an artefact his father stole years ago: The Mesopotamian Mirror. Marie wondered why Isaac would want such a thing.

"The mirror's said to hold some sort of strange power..." Raphael shrugged. "But I don't think my father ever figured it out. There's no mark on it, so I guess it wasn't that important to him."

Fondue sniffed the golden framed mirror, letting out a thoughtful, "Hrnnn..."

The three of them tiptoed into the Mesopotamian exhibit.

"Stop right there, Rhythm Thief!" Really, they should have seen Inspector Vergier coming. Excitement was always to be expected with Phantom R. (A part of Marie actually relished in it.)

"Let's split," Raphael grabbed Marie's hand. He dragged her to the main entrance, where another 'enemy' was waiting for them.

"Just where do you think you are going with that priceless artefact, Phantom?"

" _Salut_ , Charlotte," Raphael greeted. Marie gave Charlie a small wave.

" _Never_ call me that girly excuse for a name again!"

Raphael glanced over his shoulder. "We'd love to stay a chat, but we're kind of running for our lives from your dad—"

Charlie threw her hand out. "Give me the artefact and I'll let you go." Fondue growled.

"M-maybe we should just let her have it," Marie suggested. "Then she can put it back."

"Thank you, Marie. At least _someone_ sees sense."

"But where's the fun in that?" Raphael pouted at Marie's flat look. "Okay, okay... Here—"

He was about to pass the mirror to Charlie, when Vergier tackled Raphael from behind. "AHA!"

The mirror went flying. Marie gasped and tried to catch it. She caught one end of the mirror, Charlie caught the other. The girls traded shocked expressions as the artefact started to glow, its glass surface rippling. There was a ringing noise in Marie's ears before she fainted.

* * *

"Come on... You've gotta wake up..."

 _Ugh, what happened? I had everything under control until Father interrupted..._

Charlie groaned and her eyes slid open. She froze. Phantom R was smiling down at her. Even worse, she was lying _in his arms._ That rat must have captured her when she was unconscious.

He asked with (seemingly _genuine_ ) worry, "Are you ok?"

She punched him in the face and squirmed out of his grip. Fondue barked at her. Phantom R reeled back. "Whoa, take it easy! I got us away from Vergier—"

Oh, he had stooped to a new low this time. "You _kidnapped_ me?" Charlie was furious, though her voice sounded oddly feeble. She frantically searched for a way out of her prison; what appeared to be a small apartment room...

Phantom R reached for her again. "Marie, what's wrong? Did you hit your head?"

"Why...?" Charlie trailed off when she rubbed her head. Not only was her hat missing, but her hair felt longer. She yanked a sleek golden lock in front of her eyes. This looked like...Marie's hair... and she was wearing Marie's cute clothes... and she was Marie's height...

 _Oh, merde._

She threw herself at Phantom R, using that extra height to her advantage. "You irresponsible _IDIOT!_ WHAT HAVE YOU _DONE_?"

His jaw dropped. " _Charlie?_ If you're here... then where's _Marie_?"

* * *

Marie awoke to find Inspector Vergier leering over her. At first, she was too panicked to notice the relief in his eyes, or the fact that she was lying in a bed. Had she been arrested for 'assisting' Phantom R? What would her mother say?

"You should not have interfered," the inspector grumbled.

"S-sorry," she squeaked. Her voice felt raw for some reason.

"Charlotte..." Vergier sighed, shaking his head. "Now do you understand how dangerous my work is? You could have hurt yourself!"

She corrected, "Um, I'm not Charlotte."

" _D_ _ésolé,_ _Charlie,"_ he patted her head. "Are you fit to play this afternoon?"

"To play...?"

"Your football match?"

"O-oh, right," Marie forced a grin. "Of course!"

" _Bon._ I will drop you there."

Finally, he left her alone in the room. (Not _her_ room.) Marie shot out of bed (Not _her_ bed.) and gaped at her reflection ( _Charlie's_ reflection!) in the mirror.

The mirror... The Mesopotamian Mirror must have switched her and Charlies' bodies! Where was the mirror now? Where were Raphael and Charlie? She had to find them, but that would mean missing Charlie's football match and slipping away from Vergier. Obviously, he cared for Charlie in his own gruff way. It was refreshing to not have someone make a huge fuss over Marie. And it was nice to feel like she had a father...

No, she couldn't just leave as far as Vergier was concerned, and she couldn't let Charlie or her team down. Marie would have to take part in the match, at least until Raphael found the Mesopotamian Mirror.

* * *

"So, while I find that mirror, you're gonna have to sit tight at the duchess's manse and pretend to be Marie. Think you can do that?"

Charlie released a very un-Marie-like snort. Who did he think he was talking to? The private eye had gone incognito plenty of times. She fooled the Chevaliers Diabolique into thinking she was Phantom R once. People mistook her for a boy every single day. Marie's body (eugh, this was so weird) was just another disguise to her.

"For a start, don't make that noise. You sound like a pig," Phantom R said. "Marie's usually polite, kind of shy, sweet—"

"Yes, yes, and she is head over heels for you," Charlie rolled her eyes. "That's the only part I refuse to act out."

She ended up eating those words when they reached the manse's front gate. A butler— Alfred, Phantom R had called him— greeted them and quirked an eyebrow at how stiffly 'Marie' was standing next to her beloved. "Is everything content between the two of you?" he inquired.

"Yeah, there was just a little... mix-up and it was sort of my fault," the rhythm thief turned to Charlie. "I'm really sorry, Marie."

"It's quite alright, Phantom R," Charlie replied as kindly as she could manage.

Alfred still appeared suspicious, so Phantom R squeezed her hand before saying goodbye. (Thankfully, he didn't attempt to _kiss_ her.) Charlie shot him a dark look as she followed Alfred into the duchess's abode. She didn't like trusting him to find that mirror by himself. However, they couldn't keep the duchess waiting for her daughter.

The moment she entered the manse, Charlie was swept up by an army of servants.

"Welcome home, mademoiselle!"

"I have informed her Grace of your return."

"Are you hungry after your outing?"

"Er, I guess," Charlie answered the eager man with a toque. (He must have been a chef.)

"I shall prepare a three-course meal immediately!"

Charlie began, "You really don't have to do that, thank you..." But he had already raced to the kitchens. Now that she thought about it, a three-course meal didn't sound that bad. And she wouldn't have to cook for herself for a change.

Despite this, she sighed with relief when the servants started to disperse. How did Marie cope with them all? Before she could search for a quiet place to 'sit tight', Duchess Elizabeth descended the grand staircase to embrace her. "Did you have a nice time, _ma cherie_?"

"Yes... Mother." Well, this was awkward. Charlie couldn't remember her mother's hugs, or the last time she had hugged her father.

Elizabeth noticed her hesitation. She pulled back to study her daughter. "Whatever is the matter?"

Alfred filled in, "I believe she has had a misunderstanding with the young master—"

"I can speak for myself, you know." Elizabeth and Alfred were shocked by her dry remark. Charlie amended, "I- I mean, thank you for your concern Alfred, but there are no bad feelings between me and Phantom R."

" _Phantom R...?"_ Elizabeth hummed. "Do you still feel up to performing later?"

It took Charlie a beat to realise the duchess was talking to _her._ Performance? What _performance?_ Phantom R hadn't said anything about a performance!

She swallowed and strained a smile. "Sure! I still can do it!"

* * *

 _I can't do this_ , Marie despaired. Perhaps she was being pessimistic, but this wasn't like getting jittery before a concert. She didn't know the first thing about football.

For five minutes straight, she had been staring at the ball in the centre of the field. Everyone was waiting for her to 'kick-off', including Inspector Vergier who had stayed to watch from the stands. (Great, not only was she stalling the game, but she was embarrassing Charlie in front of her father.)

One of Charlie's teammates... Urbain(?) hissed, " _Kick it,_ Charlie!"

"Sorry... Where should I kick it?"

"Pass it to me if you want! Just hurry..." He winced at the referee tapping his foot.

Marie kicked the ball as hard as she could. Her shot went wide, but Urbain managed to stop it and dribbled it towards the goal. "I need you with me, Charlie!"

"O-okay!" Marie turned to follow him, but froze. One big girl from the opposing red team was blocking her way. Marie stammered, "Please don't hurt me."

The girl gave her a funny look. "I'm _marking_ you."

"Oh... Goodbye, then." Thank goodness Charlie was so small. Marie darted past the girl and pursued Urbain to the goalpost.

" _VITE_ , CHARLOTTE! ANNIHALATE THEM!"

"I'm here, Urbain!" Marie panted.

Why, oh why did she draw attention to herself? Urbain passed her the ball. Three defenders surrounded her before she could aim for the goals. Marie yelped as they sped past, stealing the ball. Charlie's team groaned when they scored a goal.

Everyone trooped back to the centre of the field, glaring at Marie. She bit her lip and sniffed. They were all going to hate Charlie, because of _her_...

"Don't give up, Charlie!"

Marie gasped as one person started cheering on the edge of the stands. It was Raphael (dressed in his school uniform). Vergier narrowed his eyes at him, but shouted in agreement, "DO NOT GIVE UP!"

Rubbing her eyes, Marie nodded. Yes, she could do this. She _would_ win. For Raphael. For Inspector Vergier. For Charlie.

With a fierce frown, she stormed to the middle of the field. The referee blew the whistle. Marie passed the ball; quick and accurate this time. She ran alongside Urbain, trading the ball between her and him. The girl from earlier got in her way. Marie barred her teeth and barrelled past her. (She'd apologise later.)

Those pesky defenders were back. Urbain chipped the ball over their heads. "That's why you shouldn't all run in a straight line!" He laughed.

Only the goalkeeper stood before them now. The crowd was chanting for them to shoot. Urbain pretended to do so, but he passed to Marie instead. Using all her might, Marie booted the ball into the net. The goalkeeper caught the ball... but the force of her kick caused him to step over the goal line. After some debate, the referee deemed it a goal to Charlie's team.

"Yahoo, I did it!" Marie spun on the spot and clapped her hands.

"Yessss!" Urbain punched the air. He grinned at her. "Nice comeback! Just one more goal and we can win."

...They didn't score another goal before the end of the game. Neither did the rival team. It was a tie. Marie hoped Charlie would be satisfied with this. Vergier was proud of her, at least. However, he didn't hang around after the game finished; someone had informed him that Phantom R's dog was in the area.

Marie chuckled as the inspector rushed off and Raphael joined her. "Did you send Inspector Vergier after poor Fondue?"

"Not my best idea, but we needed a distraction," Raphael pulled something out of his shirt. "Guess what I found in Vergier's police car?"

"The mirror," Marie beamed. She was looking forward to going home after all of this, and she wouldn't mind having a hot bath.

"Now we just need to meet Charlie at the manse—"

"Oh no, I just remembered!" Marie exclaimed. "My violin performance— Charlie will be at the _Paris Opéra."_

* * *

Charlie felt sick with nerves. She had barely touched her regal dinner. She didn't complain when the maids dolled her up. She assured the duchess over and over that she was fine. What _else_ could she say? Marie wouldn't have backed out.

Charlie tried to rally herself. _Sois courageux!_ Did she cower in fear when Napoleon attacked? _No!_ This would be a piece of cake compared to that. She would only be onstage with hundreds, possibly _thousands_ of people watching her...

Most of her day had been spent holed up in Marie's fancy bedroom, trying to teach herself how to play the viola... violin, whatever it was called. The ear-splitting noises she produced resembled a shrieking cat. She had never practiced an instrument in her life. There wasn't a musical bone in her body.

Come four o'clock, Alfred told her it was time to go. Charlie's stomach dropped out of her behind. _Where was Phantom R when you needed him?_

At the Paris Opéra, she peeked out from behind the stage curtain, shivering. _So many faces in the audience..._

"Pssst, Charlotte!"

"Where have you been?" Charlie gasped as Marie, Phantom R and his dog arrived. "You'd better have that blasted mirror!"

"Right here," Phantom R waved the mirror under her nose. Charlie made a grab for it, but he pulled back with a frown. "Careful! If we touch it at the same time, _you and I_ might end up switching bodies too." Charlie shuddered. They definitely didn't want that.

Phantom R put the mirror on the floor. Charlie and Marie picked it up at the same time. Nothing happened. Charlie went pale. "Why isn't it working?" She glanced at Phantom R.

"Don't look at me! _Your dad_ was the last person to have it!"

"He's such an idiot," Charlie muttered. "But he is _my_ idiot."

Marie whispered, "My mother must be wondering what's taking me so long... She worries a lot, so she asks the servants to look out for me. I think I understand now."

With these words, the mirror shimmered, returning them to their own selves. "We did it!" Marie cheered, catching Charlie in a hug. (What was it with her family and hugs?)

"Finally... _This_ is yours," Charlie shoved Marie's violin into her hands. She tucked the Mesopotamian Mirror under her arm. "And _this_ is going under lock and key at the Louvre. So help me, Phantom, if it _ever_ goes missing again, I will force you to swap bodies with a snail."

"Understood," Phantom R smirked. Fondue woeufed.

Before Charlie could leave, the duchess's daughter said, "You were about to go onstage for me, weren't you, Charlie? Thank you so much. I tried playing football in your place, but I'm afraid I wasn't very good..."

"It's no problem," the private eye replied. "Now go and play your heart out."

 _It's show time!_


End file.
